


Demon on the Dance Floor

by bytheletterC



Series: Short Shorts [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bytheletterC/pseuds/bytheletterC
Summary: It has been a lazy Saturday at the bookshop, London, as is it's wont, has been raining quite steadily all day. It feels, Aziraphale thinks, like the whole outside world has fallen away. That him and Crowley exist now in a tiny timeless bubble outside anything that could ever touch them. It's made Aziraphale a little nostalgic and a lot bold.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Short Shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910611
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Demon on the Dance Floor

It has been a lazy Saturday at the bookshop, London, as is it's wont, has been raining quite steadily all day. The slight patter of the raindrops against the windows pairs excellently with the instrumentals playing out of the old gramophone. It feels, Aziraphale thinks, like the whole outside world has fallen away. That him and Crowley exist now in a tiny timeless bubble outside anything that could ever touch them. It's made Aziraphale a little nostalgic and a lot bold.

Aziraphale plucks the mobile that's been cradled carelessly out of Crowley's loose fingers and places it on the end table, putting a stop to his mindless scroll.

"Come my dear." Aziraphale has on a coy smile as he takes Crowley’s hands, tugging him up from his sprawl on the couch.

"Angel what's this?" Crowley asks, a smile tugging on his lips as he rolls to his feet willingly following the angel. But Aziraphale only smiles wider and keeps walking backwards until he has them in the center of the bookshops floor. 

"I thought-" Aziraphale says as he takes one of Crowley's hands and places it on his shoulder, moving his own to Crowley's hip, "we've never had a dance and- I've always wished- always wanted a dance with you." He looks at Crowley under his lashes, while lacing the fingers of their other hands together.

"Angel." Crowley's smile is soft and amused, "You can't dance."

"Oh pish." Aziraphale lightly swats Crowley's arm, "You know I can do a perfectly acceptable gavotte. Besides, you should know now-a-days it's not so much dancing as just- swaying- together." Aziraphale's confidence falters near the end and he fidgets, shuffling foot to foot.

"Well c'mon then," Crowley steps in closer encouragingly, "show us how it's done."

Aziraphale takes a deep breath in and sets his shoulders. "Yes. Right then." He tugs Crowley a bit closer still. "And now we-" He steps to the right, Crowley lagging a tiny bit behind, but soon enough they settle into a steady rhythm fitting with the slow tune still pouring from the ancient gramophone.

"You've wanted to do this a while?" Crowley ducks his head to ask into Aziraphale's ear, "How long is a while angel?" He can't see it, but he knows Aziraphale is blushing by the tiny huff he just emitted. 

"Oh if you must know-"

"I must." Crowley interjects with a grin.

"Feind. It was Vienna, the first time I saw the waltz."

"Really?" Crowley pulls back a bit in surprise, looking altogether too pleased about the new information. It is so ridiculously endearing that Aziraphale finds the jest on the tip of his tongue has died, given way to the warmth that always seems to bloom in his chest when Crowley’s expression opens. 

"There you have it." He says instead, tilting his chin up a bit, daring Crowley to poke fun at him for it. But Crowley's pleased expression hasn't faded and he just hums a happy note as he pulls them closer again, tucking his head tight against the side of Aziraphale's.

They sway like that for a while, simply letting the music and rain fill their comfortable silence.

"Would you like to?" Crowley rumbles in a whisper, as if trying not to break the warm bubble that's seemed to settle around them.

"Hmm dear?"

"Learn how to dance- waltz?" 

"Oh-" Aziraphale lifts his head a little from where it had been tucked against Crowley’s shoulder as he considers it, "As in lessons?" He asks.

"Pfffftttttaa lessons? I know how to waltz! Could show you. Waltzing was very demonic when it was first in vogue, as you know."

"Well forgive me my dear, but you showed me your "dancing" in the nineteen-eighties and it's left me a tad sceptical as to your definition of said verb."

"I- You-!" Crowley sputters at the sly, pleased look Aziraphale is giving him under his lashes. "Alright Mr. Gavotte lets see if you can even keep up." Crowley snaps his fingers and the gramophone obligingly starts playing a fast waltz. He shifts their hands, Aziraphale’s on his shoulder, his high on Aziraphale's back, and twirls them into motion. "C'mon angel! Keep up! One two three, one two three! Aren't you heavenly host all supposed to be poise and grace? I've seen more poise in the ducks at St. James'!" He ribs playfully.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale exclaims but he's laughing as he fumbles, pulled after Crowley's fast paced lead.

"Can't keep up with a demon on the dance floor? How are you supposed to thwart any of us this way? Honestly." He turns Aziraphale out into a laughing spin.

But as Crowley pulls him back Aziraphale catches his torso and uses their momentum to pivot and dip him, broad palms warm and steady against his back as he leans over Crowley with a radiant smile, tinged with mischievousness, "Oh there are ways." He tells the surprised demon. 

"You right bastard." Crowley smirks and laughs as he's pulled up. 

Giggling as he catches his breath, Aziraphale changes the music to a slow waltz, and takes up position again. "Alright my darling, show me how it's done then." He says, eyes still crinkled in mirth. 

"Okay so-" Crowley launches into an explanation, and they make their way through the dance, trodding on each others feet and stumbling out of tune through it all, but bright laughter punctuates their many mistakes and they both agree it's the finest dancing they've ever done. 


End file.
